Pictures of You
by Quiet REBel girl -with VoDKa
Summary: Almost irrelevant glimpses into the Not a Pussy 'verse. SLASH
1. Pictures of You

**Rating:** K

**Disclaimer:** I don't own shit.

**Warnings:** None.

**Author's Note:** So I've been batting around the idea of doing something like this for a while, and my friend finally talked me into it. I'm marking it as complete because I don't know how many I'll do, but since they're just glimpses, there's not really a plot to not be complete. Hope you enjoy. =)

"Are you seriously arguing math and politics with me on Twitter?" John calls down the hall with a laugh, closing his phone and setting it to the side again.

"Are you seriously looking up the price of the royal wedding?" Justin replies from the bedroom. He sounds like he's amused as well.

"I might be." John fesses up a bit quieter, but still loud enough for his lover to catch it. "What can I say? It's interesting stuff!"

"Why in the world would that possibly be of interest to you?" he hears. There's disbelief evident in the high flyer's voice.

John looks at the ring on the laptop screen in front of him, a smile wide on his face as he responds simply, "No reason."


	2. Hero

**Title:** Hero

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** I don't own shit.

**Author's Note:** So, I actually technically wrote this last year right after Wrestlemania, but I've kinda tossed around whether or not I was going to post it. But, now that I have a companion piece from this year to go with it, I figured I'd go ahead and put it up here. Putting it in with the NAP 'verse stuff because it just plain _fits_. Haha. Hope you enjoy. =) Takes place right after Wrestlemania last year.

**Warnings:** None.

_~Now that the world isn't ending, it's love that I'm sending to you  
>It isn't the love of a hero, and that's why I fear it won't do.~<em>

Justin's lying face down on the bed when large hands finally, finally make their way down his back. He shifts a bit, squirms around, even as he lets out a soft noise of contentment at the feeling. He turns his head to the side, folding his arms under it on the pillow as he finally meets John's eyes.

"Hey there, darlin'. I was wondering if you'd still be awake or not. I'm sorry it took so long. You know how people are, though, and press." John explains softly. Justin nods. The Superstar massages the younger's shoulders as he speaks again. "How you feeling?"

"I should be asking you that!" the high flyer objects, worried look passing over his features. "How's your head?"

"It's fine, seriously. Mild concussion, have to get it checked again tomorrow. Nothing I'm not used to. I'm Superman, remember?" John jokes. Justin frowns, but nods again, John's wide grin hard to argue with. Then, he asks, "Honestly, Justin, how are you feeling after your big match?"

John smiles so tenderly at him, and as much as Justin wishes he could return it, it doesn't work, a light sigh coming out instead. The older's expression immediately falls, and he scoots a bit closer to his lover on the bed. Justin pushes himself to sit up, John's hand moving to rest lower on his back. A look of concern settles on the Superstar's face, and suddenly Justin can't meet his eyes.

"What's wrong, baby?" John asks softly, and Justin frowns.

"You _know_ what's wrong. That match was such a fucking joke." the high flyer practically spits. His tone has been full of venom every time the topic has come up since they got the plotlines for 'Mania. He's sure John loves him, the way the older has stuck with him despite that Justin _knows_ he's been taking out his own agression on him. Still, he can't help how _mad_ he is. "My first Wrestlemania, and I leave like _that_. Like some kind of _loser_."

"Hey, come on, now. Don't be so hard on yourself!" John says, pulling the younger closer. When Justin still won't meet his gaze, he feels himself frown as well. "Hey, whoa. Justin. Is that really what you think?"

Justin fidgets in his arms, but grinds out, "Your entrance was longer than my entire match, John. What do you think?"

They're both silent for a beat before John takes Justin's shoulders carefully in his hands.

"Justin, look at me." he almost whispers. Justin finally, slowly, lets out a deep breath and tilts his head up to meet John's eyes. The absolute sadness in them nearly takes the Superstar's breath away. Justin looks so _distraught_. John presses on. "Now, the last time I checked, this absolutely, beautifully amazing high flyer and his kind of annoying redheaded best friend were the tag team champs, and their big, loud-mouthed English friend was the Intercontinental champ."

Justin coughs out a laugh, the tips of a smile beginning to form across his face. John takes it as a win and keeps going.

"And, if I'm not mistaken, everyone you faced tonight has tried for your titles at least once, and failed. So you lost one match. Big deal! I've lost at Wrestlemania before, plenty of times. I lost tonight, in fact. And I don't even have a belt to show for it." the Superstar says with a smile of his own. Justin seems to be letting everything his lover said sink in, rolling it around in his head a little bit. John takes the opportunity and presses a quick kiss to the younger's lips, letting him kiss back for a moment before pulling away entirely. John doesn't go far, however, looking Justin in the eyes solidly once more. "No matter how that match went tonight, you left that arena a champion. Even I didn't do that."

The high flyer nods slowly, and John relaxes a little bit. Then, lips are on his and he pulls Justin almost all the way into his lap, wrapping his arms around the younger's shoulders. He slides his mouth open, just tasting his lover for a moment. He can _feel_ Justin calming down, the tension draining away. It makes him feel more relieved than he has been in a month. Eventually, Justin's pulling back, still gripping his upper arms tightly as he catches his breath. He slumps forward a bit, resting his head in the crook of John's neck. John just tightens his arms around him as well.

"Thank you, John. I really needed to hear that." he mutters, John's hands finally massaging over his back once more.

"I know, baby. It's okay. We all need a little reassurance sometimes."

Justin nods. He's had to console John his fair share of times as well. He knows it's hard on everyone. Sometimes it just feels exceptionally hard on him and his friends for no good reason. He knows John's right, though.

"Hey, John?" he says quietly, waiting for John to make a noise of agreement before continuing. "I love you. Championship or no championship."

The Superstar laughs, and Justin finds himself smiling as well.

"I love you too, darlin'. No matter what." John replies, kissing Justin again.

As the high flyer falls asleep later, finally exhausted, wrapped in his lover's arms, with a wide smile on his face, he figures he's pretty close to being the happiest he's ever been, results of the match be damned. And really, he thinks, that's what Wrestlemania is all about. When John pulls him closer, nuzzling into his neck and pressing a feather-light kiss to it in his sleep, Justin knows he wouldn't have things any other way.


	3. Wonderwall

**Title:** Wonderwall

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** I don't own shit.

**Author's Note:** So, this one takes place right before this year's 'Mania. It's kind of similar to the one before it, but it's kind of supposed to be, so. Either way, I hope you enjoy. =)

**Warnings:** None.

_~Because maybe you're gonna be the one that saves me  
>And after all, you're my wonderwall.~<em>

John's completely silent as he exits the hotel room, Justin right behind him. The high flyer isn't suprised; John has been quiet almost the entire time they've been in Miami, up in his own head from the moment the plane touched down. Justin has been waiting for the older to open up to him about his troubles, but it seems as if they've hardly even seen each other between everything John has been scheduled for. The time they have spent together has mostly been filled with silence, except during their love-making, which has been a bit more frequent than Justin remembered. Not that he's complaining, necessarily. He just wishes John would _talk_ to him for once instead of trying to play Superman all the time. He hates the way his lover drags his feet all the way down the hall, not even looking ahead, but instead at his sneakers. It leaves a bad taste in the high flyer's mouth, and he speeds up a few paces to stand next to John as they wait for the elevator. Try as he might, however, he can't catch the older's eye, even as the doors open and they step inside, Justin not even a breath behind John. Once the doors are closed, Justin's reaching over and grabbing John's hand, threading their fingers together carefully. He knows it's not much, but it's a last ditch effort to just help his boyfriend the only way he knows how, taking a step even closer.

John is stoic for a few solid moments, still not even turning to face the younger, and Justin lets out a slow breath, feeling defeated. Just as Justin thinks he's not going to get a response at all, resigning himself to a post-match confrontation, John reaches out with his free hand and presses the emergency stop button. He's on Justin in an instant, wrapping his arms tight around his lover's shoulders as the elevator grinds to a halt. The shock combined with the force of the abrupt halt shake the high flyer off balance, tipping him backwards and almost off his feet. Thankfully, the elevator wall is right behind him, and he falls into it roughly, catching the older in the same breath. Justin's eyes widen as he takes in the now trembling form of John Cena, pinning him to the wall of a hotel elevator. He feels John's breath hot on his skin as the Superstar presses feather light kisses to the side of his neck, and he can't even find words, just holds him there. For a moment, he thinks John is actually going to break down, right here, right now, right before Wrestlemania. He worries briefly, even as he begins to rub the older's back in an effort to calm him, and his worry only increases as John breathes in a slow, shaky breath, lips moving against the high flyer's skin once more. He hears himself speaking before he even has a chance to process what he's saying.

"What's wrong, John?" he asks, voice just loud enough for John to hear it. The older just shakes his head, and Justin shivers at the way he can feel it in the crook of his neck.

"Nothing's wrong." John responds quietly. Then, softer, "Not yet."

He leans back just enough to look into his lover's eyes, holding Justin's face carefully as he continues.

"But in a few hours, I'm going to go out there in front of tens of thousands of people live, and countless people worldwide, and I'm going to _lose_, on the grandest stage of them all. And worse than that, I'm going to lose to the _Rock_." John lets out a pained sigh that makes Justin pull him close once more. The Superstar can't even resist, folds himself into the high flyer's comforting embrace. When he speaks again, it's right against the skin of Justin's neck once more. "Y'know, I never once, at any point this whole time, thought I was going to lose this match. I thought, surely, they won't make me do that. Not after all I do for them. _Christ_, how could I have been so fucking stupid?"

"You're not." Justin whispers, and he hears his voice crack.

He swallows thickly, tries to push the rage down. It's not as though the younger hadn't known what the outcome of the match was going to be. There was no other explanation for the way John had been acting for the last handful of weeks. Still, to have it confirmed, especially right here before the event, leaves a bitter taste in Justin's mouth that makes him almost nauseous. It makes the fact that Justin's due to win his own match completely bittersweet, and he hates the company they work for for doing this to them, continually. When John doesn't even make a sound, Justin clears his throat, tries again, louder.

"You're not, John. I mean it." he says, voice firmer than before. Justin gives the Superstar's shoulders a shake, and the older looks up at him, meets his eyes. "It's not your fault our idiot boss is caving to that diva's demands. John, you're one of the hardest workers this company has ever seen, and it's _disgusting_ what they're doing to you. But, that doesn't mean you should let it get to you like this. At this point, what can you do about it, anyway?"

"Lose," John replies, almost a grumble in his tone, "in front of millions of people."

"So you lose. So what? Sweetheart...you're in the _main event_ of _Wrestlemania_. Whether you win or lose, that's pretty damned incredible. Hell, I don't even have a real MATCH at 'Mania, just some dark match before the show-"

"That you're going to win." the Superstar corrects him swiftly. Justin rolls his eyes.

"Okay, so I'm going to _win_ a dark match before Wrestlemania. Either way, then I'm going to watch you go out there and be absolutely amazing, like I know you are. And yes, you may lose. But after everything is said and done, you're going to be sore and tired, and you're going to come back to the room, and I'm going to be there. And I'm going to make you feel like every bit the champion you are." Justin tells him, smiling softly. "I love, you John. No matter what."

John's lips begin to turn up the slightest bit as well, and he pulls Justin closer, kissing him tenderly. Justin notes that there's much less sadness, much less desperation in this one, and he relaxes against his lover as John pries his mouth open. They only kiss for a brief moment before the older is pulling away, smiling down at Justin fully this time.

"Hey," he says, "wasn't this my job last year?"

And suddenly, Justin does remember something very similar from the year before, John consoling him after what he could only describe as a piss-poor excuse for a match. The Superstar had really been the only thing that had redeemed that night, the only thing that had helped him to get back to his feet the next day and face his mother after his painstaking defeat. Now, it seems the tables have turned. Justin can only hope that he's been even a fraction as helpful as John had been for him, and if the older's gently softening expression is anything to go by, he definitely is. He shoots John a grin.

"Yea, it was. So, how am I doing? You feeling better?" Justin can't help but ask.

John nods slowly, hugging the high flyer even closer to him and rubbing a firm hand up and down his back.

"You're doing fantastic, darlin'. I'm feeling much better. Thank you." John mutters against the skin of Justin's neck.

"Then, shouldn't we be heading down now?" the younger questions. "We've had this elevator stopped for an awfully long time now."

"Fuck 'em." John responds, kissing his lover's neck just enough to send a shiver up the boy's spine. "I want one more minute."

And Justin just nods, holds John close, since it seems to be what he really needs right now. It's not as if he could ever deny the older anything, anyway, especially when John's vulnerable like this. Eventually, they'll be forced to descend to the ground floor, finally head on to the arena so they can each compete in their matches. Justin will, unfortunately, get hurt so badly because of the loosened ropes that it will cost him the title that he'd come so very close to holding once more. John will be so distracted by the thoughts of his distraught lover, and so overwhelmed by the Rock's unrelenting ego that he'll put on what he considers a sub-par performance, leading right up to his inevitable defeat. All in all, it will feel like a disappointment of a night. But, at the end of it all, Justin will undoubtedly keep his promise, the two heading back to the hotel hand in hand.

As John lies in bed later, Justin's head tucked delicately right under John's chin, cheek resting on his chest, the Superstar can't help but think how lucky he really is. Justin was right; even if he _did_ lose, he main evented Wrestlemania, and in one of the most highly anticipated matches ever. And, better than that, he thinks with a glance down at the slumbering high flyer, he's got the best boyfriend he could have ever dreamed of. Crowd at Raw tomorrow be damned, Justin will still be by his side, he knows, and it relaxes him enough for him to close his eyes. When he brushes a kiss across Justin's forehead, the younger snuggles closer to him. He smiles wider, just beginning to drift off. _Yup_, he thinks, _life is pretty damn good_.


End file.
